


#psl_everlark

by ThirtySomething



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-27 11:38:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5047090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirtySomething/pseuds/ThirtySomething
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everlark and Pumpkin Spice Lattes. The complete series from the #psl_everlark drabbles posted on tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	#psl_everlark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [am2c](https://archiveofourown.org/users/am2c/gifts).



> This is the drabble that exploded after it was posted on National Coffee Day 2015. Enjoy!

“Excuse me!!! Hey!”

She runs out of the coffee shop, annoyed that this blonde guy isn’t responding. “You, in the green sweater!”

He turns around just as he takes a sip of his coffee, and her heart drops.

“Dammit!” she yells.

“Hey, sorry, did you need something?” he asks.

She scowls at him. “Well, not anymore. That’s  _my_  latte you just took a sip of.”

He furrows his brow and looks at his cup. “No, this is mine. PSL – Pumpkin Spice Latte.”

“Take the coffee sleeve off,” she sighs. “I’m assuming you’re Peter?” she asks, holding up an identical cup with ‘Peter’ written on the top.

“Uh, no, actually,” he says as he checks his own cup. “But are you Katherine?”

She shakes her head and can’t help the chuckle that comes out. “No, I’m not ‘Katherine’. But I guess it doesn’t matter anyway, you already took a sip of my drink.”

He takes a closer look and laughs. “Ah, sorry. ‘Non-fat’. I knew it tasted different.”

“And you take whip on yours?” she asks, taking a sip. “Yeesh. Too sweet.”

“What can I say, I like sweet things,” he shrugs, smiling even as she rolls her eyes. “But hey, I really am sorry. Let’s go back in and I’ll get you another…”

“Unfortunately, I am now late for work,” she grumbles. “It’s okay, ‘Peter’. I’ll survive.”

He watches her walk away, her long braid bouncing off her shoulder and her orange scarf blowing in the wind. And just when he thinks he’ll never see this girl again, that this was just some fluke that he’ll forget about tomorrow, she turns around. And smiles.

And just like that, he’s a goner.

* * *

“Hey! You in the orange scarf!”

She spins around just as she was about to enter the coffee shop, the blonde guy from the other day running toward her with a huge grin on his face. “Hey, it’s the guy who likes ‘sweet things’,” she says, smirking. “Or did I turn you to the dark, non-fat side?”

“Ha, no,” he says, opening the door for her. “Still sticking with whole milk…but maybe I’ll skip the whip today.”

She pauses for a moment at the door-holding gesture, then raises an eyebrow at him. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“After you, then.”

They take their place in line, and she reaches into her bag to pull out her wallet.

“Hey, no,” he says, “This one’s on me, remember?”

“Oh…” she mumbles, “No, you really don’t have to. It was an honest mistake.”

“Nonsense, I want to. Please?”

She looks back at him and notices his eyes for the first time. Blue. Kind. Sincere. Almost familiar.

“Okay…sure. Thanks.”

He smiles and nods. “So, does the latte get me your real name?”

Before she can say anything, the cashier is asking for her order. “Grande, non-fat, no-whip pumpkin spice latte, please,” she answers.

“And can I get a name?” the cashier asks, writing on the cup.

She looks back at the blonde, blue-eyed guy behind her, who is not-so-subtly leaning in, obviously hoping to catch her name. She contemplates saying ‘Katherine’ again to throw him off. She doesn’t  _really_  know him after all, and if he turns out to be a jerk, it would be better if he didn’t know her real name.

But then again…that smile. His eyes.

“Katniss,” she answers, “K-A-T-N-I-S-S, and this guy behind me is buying.”

Katniss and the cashier both turn to look at him, but he’s just staring at her, his mouth slightly open in a growing smile.

“Your order, sir?”

“Uh, yeah, sorry,” he says finally, “Grande pumpkin spice latte, hold the whip.”

“And your name?”

He looks at Katniss when he answers. “Peeta. P-E-E-T-A.”

Her eyes go big and her jaw drops. “P-Peeta? Peeta Mellark?”

Peeta lifts up his hand and pulls on her braid.

“Hey, Katniss.”

* * *

Once upon a time, long before there were pumpkin spice lattes, there was a girl. She moved in next door when he was five years old, and she wore her hair in two braids instead of one.

He adored her with every fiber of his being. She was his best friend.

She would collect dandelions and share them with him, and they would blow the seeds away and make wishes together. He would pull on one of her braids to get her attention, usually to surprise her with a cookie or ‘cheesybun’.

He always let her go first down the slide.

She always held ice to his cheek when his mother got angry.

Then one day, his father rushed him and his brothers into the car and told them they were “never coming back here”. He remembers two things from that day: his mother yelling at them from the driveway, and the girl watching sadly from her front door.

He never saw her again.

~~~

_“Hey, Katniss.”_

Katniss searches for words, but can’t find any. She doesn’t even know where she is right now. The coffee shop has sprouted tall grass and the ceiling has opened up to bright, blue sky. As if she’s been transported to a beautiful meadow,  _their_ meadow, where the sun never sets and there is always a breeze to carry wishes away.

Could this really be Peeta?  _Her_  Peeta?

“Excuse me, sir? Your total is $9.56.”

She’s brought back to reality and clears her throat, looking away from Peeta’s gaze. “I’ll, uh, I’ll go wait for our drinks. Over there,” she points.

His initial look of joy fades into confusion as he nods. “Okay, yeah, I’ll grab us a table. So we can catch up?”

The hopeful lift in his voice goes straight to her heart, and even though she wants to say ‘no’, even though she wants to run far away, even though she wants to keep the memory of her childhood best friend locked away and untouched forever, she nods.

“Sure.”

~~~

“So, do you live around here?”

She huffs and rolls her eyes. “Seriously, Peeta? We haven’t seen each other in twenty years, and that’s the first thing you say?”

He smiles slightly and rubs the back of his neck. “No. I mean, yes. Just trying to break the ice, I guess,” he mumbles, taking a sip of his drink. “Your- your reaction earlier was…not exactly promising for a happy reunion.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah…so, if this isn’t a good idea, we can just get-”

“You broke my heart.”

He sits up, startled. “I- I what?”

She takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “Look, Peeta, looking back on it, I know,  _of course_  I know, that it was right for your father to take you and leave…her.”

Peeta nods, and his hand instinctively twitches on the table.

“But,” she continues, “As a five-year-old, well…my best friend left me. And I never saw him again.”

“Katniss-”

“Stop, just…don’t,” she says, willing herself to look into his eyes. “Peeta, you can’t have known this, but my father died not long after you left. Then my mother…left…”

“Oh Katniss, I’m so sorr-”

She stands then, nearly knocking over their drinks as she lifts her bag onto her shoulder. “It’s just…I have this perfect memory of you in my head, you know? And, I just…I don’t want to ruin it.”

Her voice is cracking and she feels the tears rising dangerously close to the surface. She keeps her head down, but watches as Peeta gets on his feet and hands over her cup.

“Okay, I get it,” he says quietly. “It was nice to see you, Katniss.”

She lifts her head to look at him, and the expression on his face matches the ache in her chest. She musters up a bit of courage and steps closer to him, rising to her toes and placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Bye, Peeta.”

* * *

The next few mornings, she settles for the coffee at work, the kind that comes out of those little plastic cups. She hates it.

She also hates that she can’t sleep without dreaming of him. And not even the five-year-old version of him, no, of  _course_  she dreams about the grown-up version, all broad shoulders and perfect smile. She dreams of them as they are now, but back in the meadow, laying on the grass, counting the clouds in the sky and making up silly jokes.

It’s all so cheesy, and she hates it.

But she also misses him. All of a sudden, after twenty years, she misses him.

She hates that most of all.

~~~

Katniss squints at the unfamiliar menu board, ignoring the loud sigh of the cashier. “Uh, I guess I’ll have a medium? Yes, a medium pumpkin sp-, oh, no, I mean, medium pumpkin latte?”

“…are you sure, Miss?”

She nods, though uncertainly, and looks up at the board again. “Yes, a medium - oh, and skim - so, medium, skim, pumpkin latte,” she states as confidently as she can.

“And your name?”

“Katniss,” a voice calls from behind. “K-A-T-N-I-S-S. I’ll have the same, and I’m buying.”

She tenses up as Peeta’s arm extends over her shoulder to hand the cashier his credit card. She holds her breath and wills herself to be annoyed, she  _should_  be annoyed, but all she can think about is how he smells, and how is it even possible that he still smells _familiar_  after all this time? That he still smells like home?

“I swear I’m not following you,” he says as she turns around to face him. “I guess we both had the same idea…”

“I guess,” she sighs, “But you didn’t have to pay. Again.”

“Well, I didn’t want you to think I was some crazy stalker.”

She laughs. “You know, you can still come off as a ‘crazy stalker’ by paying for my drink. Even more so, actually.”

“Maybe,” he shrugs, “but at least I got you to smile.”

Her jaw drops and he laughs, and damn it, she can’t help but laugh, too. And when the  _ahem_  of the next person in line interrupts them, Peeta nods over to the waiting area. “Come on. I promise I won’t make you laugh anymore.”

“You better not,” she says, smiling.

_What are you doing, Katniss?_

They walk over and she tries to regain her earlier, more serious demeanor, leaning her back against the wall, her whole body a ball of nerves. She keeps her head down as Peeta approaches, and he sighs. “Look, Katniss, I’m sorry. If you want, you can stake claim on the other coffee place and I can just come here.”

“Well that’s silly,” she exclaims, surprising herself. “I mean…thank you, really, but it’s completely unnecessary,” she says, finding the courage to meet his eyes. “Just…just stop paying for my lattes, and I think we can co-exist in the same coffee universe.”

“That…doesn’t make any sense, but I think I get it,” he chuckles.

They stand and wait in comfortable silence until her name is called, and two cups are passed over the counter. “Well,” she mumbles, “I gotta run…”

He opens his mouth as if to say something, but settles for a smile and a nod instead.

She nods back and turns around to leave, suddenly disheartened that he didn’t say anything.  _But that’s what you wanted_ , she thinks to herself. She tries to shake off the disappointment as she walks outside, when the sound of her name has her stopping in her tracks.

“Wait, Katniss,” Peeta says, catching up to her, “Can I just tell you something before you go?”

_No, please. Don’t_.

“Okay.”

He takes a deep breath and releases it quickly.

“It…it hurt me, too. Leaving you. You know that, right?”

_Yes_.

She nods.

“I mean…You- you were my whole world. You made everything better.”

She blinks her eyes, and nods again.

He runs his hand through his hair and laughs. “What really sucks – I mean, besides the actual leaving part, of course – is that I didn’t get to give you your birthday present.”

“My birthday present?”

_My birthday present._

“Yeah, I made you a…well, I guess it doesn’t matter now. Don’t you have to get somewhere?”

She reaches for her phone to check the time. “Shoot, yes, I really do,” she says as she looks up at him, his eyes still so hopeful.

“Peeta,” she says hesitantly, and his eyes light up at the sound of his name. “I- I’m still not sure about…this,” she says, gesturing between them, “but if you want, meet me at the old coffee shop tomorrow morning. I just have to show you something.”

He furrows his brow, confused. “Uh, sure. Of course. Same time?”

_No turning back now._

“Yup. Same time.”

~~~

She comes home that night and opens the bottom drawer of her desk. There, buried under old greeting cards and yearbooks, is a box. It’s green and orange, with five-year-old Peeta’s handwriting all over it,  _Happy Birthday, Katniss .. Love, Peeta_.

_What are you doing, Katniss?_  she asks herself again. Only this time, she’s questioning her decision to shut Peeta out of her life, when the few moments she’s spent with him have been the highlights of her week.

Because no one else makes her laugh like he does. No one else makes her feel like this. Special. Wanted. Adored.

Because he’s Peeta. Five or Twenty-Five, he’s still her Peeta.

She stares at the box, sorting through her feelings for what seems like days, until finally, she asks herself if she’s willing to risk getting hurt again. She asks herself if it’s all worth it. If  _he’s_  worth it.

_Yes._

* * *

He can’t sleep. He’s too excited.

He tries not to get his hopes up.

He fails.

~~~

Peeta sits and waits at a corner table in the old coffee shop, two grande pumpkin spice lattes in front of him. He knows she’ll be mad, but he’s willing to take that risk. He still can’t believe she wanted to meet up with him in the first place.

Curiosity and nerves are overwhelming him, so much so that he doesn’t notice the redhead making eyes at him from the next table. “You must be thirsty,” she says, pointing to the cups.

“Uh, no, actually,” he begins, faking a smile, “I’m waiting for someone.”

“ _Girlfriend_  someone?” she asks.

He purses his lips, unsure of how to answer that question. After all, he liked Katniss  _before_  he knew it was Katniss, but now…he’s not sure how he’s supposed to feel. What he’s  _allowed_  to feel.

They were only five. How can you love someone so much at five years old?

He thinks about this redheaded girl inching closer to him now, and the pretty blonde he was flirting with a week ago. Both seem nice enough. Both seem like women he might date.

But neither of them are Katniss.

“No, not a girlfriend,” he finally replies, “But…you never know.”

His answer is enough for the redhead and she smirks, scooting her chair back to her table. He smiles politely at her, wondering if this is a huge mistake, wondering if these feelings for Katniss are real or if they’re just nostalgia, a longing for the friendship he once had with the girl next door.

And then she walks in. And he knows.

_It’s real._

He stands up to greet her, and he can’t believe his eyes.

“How?”

She smiles. “I left my bow in your room, so I snuck up there to get it one day after your mother left for work,” she begins, reaching her hand up to her head, “And I found this.”

Her crown. The dandelion crown he made for her. All stems now, and dried up after twenty years, but still intact and sitting on top of Katniss’ head.

His grin is a mile wide as he reaches up to touch it. “And…you kept it? All this time?”

“Of course,” she says, matching his grin, “It was from you.”

He brings his hand back down to his side and makes a fist, fighting off the urge to take her into his arms. He wants to hold her. He wants to kiss her.

But he doesn’t want to scare her away.

“Thanks…thanks for showing this to me, Katniss.”

She looks up at him curiously, and he wonders what she’s thinking. He wonders if she can tell how he feels, what he wants to do.

“Peeta,” she sighs, “You’re really here, aren’t you? Like…I could hug you right now, and you’d be real…”

He reaches over and squeezes her hand. “Only one way to find out.”

She steps closer, and that’s all he needs. He grabs her by the waist and wraps his arms around her back, feeling the warmth of her arms as they circle around his neck. He hears her laughing, and he laughs too. Then he hears her sniffling, so he panics and lets go, but is relieved to see that she’s still smiling, with a few tears running down her cheek. He lifts his hand up and wipes them away with his thumb, and he revels in the feeling when she lets her face sink deeper into his palm.

_Kiss her._

He brings his other hand up to her face and looks into her eyes. He starts to lean in, and-

“Peeta, what did I say about paying for my lattes?”

* * *

No, he doesn’t get to kiss her that morning. He doesn’t kiss her the next morning, either.

It takes two weeks, three days, and one very embarrassing pep talk in the mirror for him to work up the nerve to kiss her.

They’re meeting at the coffee shop, as they’ve done every weekday morning since the day she showed up in his crown. The weekends have been spent at the local park, walking around, enjoying the crisp weather and turning leaves, talking, laughing, and picnicking. Just catching up. It’s all he wanted in the first place.

But now he wants more.

He sees her just outside the shop, leaning against the wall and looking at her phone. He knows he’s late (stupid pep talk), so his walk breaks into a run, his heavy step causing her to look up and slip the phone into her pocket. Their eyes connect, and she smiles.

_Kiss her._

He returns her smile, but doesn’t speak. He walks right up to her, ignoring the confused expression on her face, and lifts his hands to her cheeks. His eyes stare straight into hers, silently asking a question. She seems to understand…so she nods.

And he kisses her.

~~~

Another two weeks later, he bakes her a batch of cheesybuns.

She thanks him by being naked in bed that night.

He’s pretty sure he’s going to bake cheesybuns every day now.

~~~

Time moves on, and they move forward. They commit to each other. They meet each other’s friends, they discover likes and dislikes, they learn quirks and pet peeves.

She introduces him to her sister Prim, who was just a baby when he left home. Prim squeals at the sight of him, swearing up and down that she remembers who he is (even though that seems quite impossible).

He introduces her to his father, who cries the instant he sees her, remembering the little girl with two braids that made his son so happy, once upon a time. He pulls her into a hug, and whispers,  _“I’m so sorry I took him away from you.”_

She replies,  _“Thank you so much for keeping him safe.”_

~~~

One year and two days from the moment ‘Katherine’ first saw ‘Peter’, they find themselves standing outside of the coffee shop, celebrating the return of pumpkin spice lattes. Peeta takes a sip of his and makes a face. “Katniss, I think we got switched again.”

She sips hers and shakes her head. “No, mine tastes fine. No whip. Are you sure?”

“Hmm, can you check the cup?”

Katniss slides down the coffee sleeve and nearly drops her latte.

She stares at the question written on the cup, then up at the man who put it there. The man she found a year ago, thought to have been lost forever. Her best friend. The man she loves, has always loved, and will always love.

“I love you, Katniss. I’ve loved you my whole life…”

She stops him with a kiss. One kiss, then one breath, then one word.

“Yes.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again to everyone who liked and reblogged this on tumblr (especially @am2c for her cheerleading and prepreading :) ! Come play with me, I'm @lifeisshiny


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